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Buda, Pest, And The Unblue Danube
A Travel Story
Steve says that he seems to recall some myth about the Danube River looking blue only to lovers. Thank goodness, because it only seems dirty green and brown to us. We’d hoped the boat would play the Strauss waltz as we floated down the river. Alas, the world is no longer meant for us. Instead, some godawful barrage of raucous racket grates its way out of the boat’s loudspeakers, which immensely pleases all the passengers but us.
Welcome to Hungary and its schizophrenic capital city, Buda-Pest, split — you guessed it — by that dirty brown water.
Before making our way down the iconic old river, however, we have to locate our hotel in the middle of town. That isn’t easy. All we have is an address and a name, neither of which is visible on the building, as it is hidden amongst an entire streetload of buildings.
Once we locate the nondescript door leading through a nondescript connecting corridor — dark, empty, and cold — we find ourselves obstructed to further progress by a locked door with a tiny intercom, so we do the only feasible thing and push the intercom’s button.
